Leisure Disrupted in Africa Tour
Since he became a president, I have always wished to visit Obama's dad birthplace somewhere along the shores of Lake Victoria. When a tour firm offered a promotional tour at a discounted rate, I grabbed the opportunity.
Presidential elections had just been concluded the previous night and vote tallying was on going.
At nine, on a bright, sunny and cloudless tropical morning, we set off.
A lovely tourism country, Kenya is endowed with breathtaking sceneries including the famous Wildebeest migration. The people are warm and welcoming. We were expectant of a refreshing experience.
The car radio was the unyielding chatter box, streaming music and interactive calls from audience.
Three hours on, the radio announcer cut the music to announce breaking news. At the same time the driver abruptly diverted from the main road towards a dusty road. He kept driving.
Overhead, a helicopter was hovering. The serenity, thus far, disappeared. I asked the driver what was happening he responded by gesturing in such a way as to indicate that I listen to the radio.
The announcer was dutifully informing of ethnic clashes that had erupted in parts of the country. People were advised to avoid the road we had deviated from due to marauding gangs who were committing murders, rapes and abductions.
We had been sandwiched; we couldn't neither proceed nor go back. The nearest urban centers were ablaze with riots.
The problem, according to the radio announcer, was that some voters had suspected fraud in vote tallying and had subsequently decided to protest. Riots had spread like bush fire to parts of the otherwise peaceful African nation.
The rocky road we had been using came to an abrupt end next to a lake that is home to Flamingos and Hippos. The driver brought the van to a halt. The rest of us were seeing through our mouths. No one seemed strong, or intelligent, enough to utter anything.
The helicopter was then circling overhead. Out of the blue, gun fire shots rung from the helicopter towards our van. The driver shouted hysterically, "don't shoot!" He opened his door screaming and raising a white handkerchief towards the sky.
The shots stopped and the helicopter landed some meters from us. What followed was a nightmare for us as we were bundled into the boot of our van and were driven to the police station for interrogations.
Someone had, apparently, informed the police of 'suspicious people' driving westwards in a green van. The description had led them to our trail. Efforts to identify ourselves fell on deaf ears.
It took an extra six hours of road trip to reach the nearest police station. By the time we were unbundled from the boot every body part and organ was numb. We were also hungry and thirsty.
After interrogations, which seemed to last forever, we were found innocent.
The police interrogators were apologetic but all they could offer was some stale tea and bread, non which could get through the mouth.
Author recommends: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYM6LqDJLiM